e forbidden to take part in any athletic activity in public； jews were forbidden to sit in their gardens or those of their friends after 8 p。m。； jews were forbidden to visit christians in their homes； jews were required to attend jewish schools； etc。 you couldnt do this and you couldnt do that； but life went on。 jacque always said to me； 〃i dont dare do anything anymore； cause im afraid its not allowed。鈥�
in the summer of 1941 grandma got sick and had to have an operation； so my birthday passed with little celebration。 in the summer of 1940 we didnt do much for my birthday either； since the fighting had just ended in holland。 grandma died in january 1942。 no one knows how often i think of her and still love her。 this birthday celebration in 1942 was intended to make up for the others； and grandmas candle was lit along with the rest。
the four of us are still doing well； and that brings me to the present date of june 20； 1942； and the solemn dedication of my diary。
saturday； june 20； 1942
dearest kitty！ let me get started right away； its nice and quiet now。 father and mother are out and margot has gone to play ping…pong with some other young people at her friend treess。 ive been playing a lot of ping…pong myself lately。 so much that five of us girls have formed a club。 its called 〃the little dipper minus two。〃 a really silly name； but its based on a mistake。 we wanted to give our club a special name； and because there were five of us； we came up with the idea of the little dipper。 we thought it consisted of five stars； but we turned out to be wrong。 it has seven； like the big dipper； which explains the 〃minus two。〃 ilse wagner has a ping…pong set； and the wagners let us play in their big dining room whenever we want。 since we five ping…pong players like ice cream； especially in the summer； and since you get hot playing ping…pong； our games usually end with a visit to the nearest ice…cream parlor that allows jews： either oasis or delphi。 weve long since stopped hunting around for our purses or money most of the time its so busy in oasis that we manage to find a few generous young men of our acquaintance or an admirer to offer us more ice cream than we could eat in a week。
youre probably a little surprised to hear me talking about admirers at such a tender age。 unfortunately； or not； as the case may be； this vice seems to be rampant at our school。 as soon as a boy asks if he can bicycle home with me and we get to talking； nine times out of ten i can be sure hell bee enamored on the spot and wont let
me out of his sight for a second。 his ardor eventually cools； especially since i ignore his passionate glances and pedal blithely on my way。 if it gets so bad that they start rambling on about 〃asking fathers permission；〃 i swerve slightly on my bike； my schoolbag falls； and the young man feels obliged to get off his bike and hand me the bag； by which time ive switched the conversation to another topic。 these are the most innocent types。 of course； there are those who blow you kisses or try to take hold of your arm； but theyre definitely knocking on the wrong door。 i get off my bike and either refuse to make further use of their pany or act as if im insulted and tell them in no uncertain terms to go on home without me。 there you are。 weve now laid the basis for our friendship。 until tomorrow。
yours； anne
sunday； june 21； 1942
dearest kitty；
our entire class is quaking in its boots。 the reason； of course； is the uping meeting in which the teachers decide wholl be promoted to the next grade and wholl be kept back。 half the class is making bets。 g。z。 and i laugh ourselves sick at the two boys behind us； c。n。 and jacques kocernoot； who have staked their entire vacation savings on their bet。 from morning to night； its 〃youre going to pass； no； im not；鈥�
〃yes； you are；〃 〃no； im not。〃 even g。s pleading glances and my angry outbursts cant calm them down。 if you ask me； there are so many dummies that about a quarter of the class should be kept back； but teachers are the most unpredictable creatures on earth。 maybe this time theyll be unpredictable in the right direction for a change。 im not so worried about my girlfriends and myself。
well make it。 the only subject im not sure about is math。 anyway； all we can do is wait。 until then； we keep telling each other not to lose heart。
i get along pretty well with all my teachers。 there are nine of them； seven men and two women。 mr。 keesing； the old fogey who teaches math； was mad at me for the longest time because i talked so much。 after several warnings； he assigned me extra homework。 an essay on the subject 〃a chatterbox。〃 a chatterbox； what can you write about that？ id wbrry about that later； i decided。 i jotted down the assignment in my notebook； tucked it in my bag and tried to keep quiet。
that evening； after id finished the rest of my homework； the note about the essay caught my eye。 i began thinking about the subject while chewing the tip of my fountain pen。 anyone could ramble on and leave big spaces between the words； but the
trick was to e up with convincing arguments to prove the necessity of talking。 i thought and thought； and suddenly i had an idea。 i wrote the three pages mr。 keesing had assigned me and was satisfied。 i argued that talking is a female trait and that i would do my best to keep it under control； but that i would never be able to break myself of the habit； since my mother talked as much as i did； if not more； and that theres not much you can do about inherited traits。
mr。 keesing had a good laugh at my arguments； but when i proceeded to talk my way through the next class； he assigned me a second essay。 this time it was supposed to be on 〃an incorrigible chatterbox。〃 i handed it in； and mr。 keesing had nothing to plain about for two whole classes。 however； during the third class hed finally had enough。 〃anne frank； as punishment for talking in class； write an essay entitled quack； quack； quack； said mistress chatterback。鈥�
the class roared。 i had to laugh too； though id ） nearly exhausted my ingenuity on the topic of chatterboxes。 it was time to e up with something else； j something original。 my friend sanne； whos good at poetry； offered to help me write the essay from beginning to end in verse。 i jumped for joy。 keesing was trying to play a joke on me with this ridiculous subject； but id make sure the joke was on him。 i finished my poem； and it was beautiful！ it was about a mother duck and a father swan with three baby ducklings who were bitten to death by the father because they quacked too much。 luckily； keesing took the joke the right way。 he read the poem to the class； adding his own ments； and to several other classes as well。 since then ive been allowed to talk and havent been assigned any extra homework。 on the contrary； keesings always i making jokes these days。
yours； anne
wednesday； june 24； 1942
dearest kitty；
its sweltering。 everyone is huffing and puffing； and in this heat i have to walk everywhere。 only now do i realize how pleasant a streetcar is； but we jews are no longer allowed to make use of this luxury； our own two feet are good enough for us。
yesterday at lunchtime i had an appointment